Leech-Shaped Hole in My Heart

by Ivyblade80

Betrayal. Revenge. These two words encompassed the very being of Dr. James Marcus, a man so filled with rage that his soul cannot rest until he destroys those who have wronged him. Even death was not enough to keep him from acting on his revenge. He has been given a second chance at life, and he fully intends to make use of it. Now, he will have his revenge on Umbrella...

7. The Fruits of His Research

November 15th, 1977

---

Not many days have gone by since his last experiment, but Marcus dedicated the entirety of his energy and effort into tying up all loose ends so that he could move on to the next step of his plan. Naturally, this meant that he made quick work regarding the disposal of his latest test subjects, Midge and Keith.

Dennis Midge—the employee that had the terrible luck of being Marcus' choice for the experiment. His fate was sealed due to him having been tricked into coming into contact with a leech. After all was said and done, the putrefied man was placed into a body bag and stuffed into one of the lockers within the morgue. And considering how much of a rush Marcus had been in, it wasn't out of the question to assume that the man was thrown into both the bag and locker rather sloppily.

But it didn't matter, he figured. No one but Marcus had access to the morgue, so it's not as if anyone else would ever see it.

Besides, even if they did somehow find their way into the heavily sealed room, would they really be so worried about the tidiness of Midge's disposal? One would think it'd make much more sense to be concerned over why Marcus had a morgue at all, rather than the particular approach to disposal within it.

And then there was Warren Keith—a rather inept employee that got himself infected by his self-caused ill fortune. Perhaps no one ever taught him to stay away from people that are so obviously sick, since he clearly didn't know enough to keep his distance from Midge in his ailing state. It was a likely theory, as it was also evident that no one ever taught him proper manners either—such as to not badmouth your boss that you knew absolutely nothing about…

It wasn't hard to see that Marcus had especially negative feelings towards Keith, seeing as the man did have an awful lot to say about him and his work. Likewise, there wasn't much disappointment to be found in Keith's accidental exposure to the virus. He obtained even more vital research data, as well as one less moronic employee insulting him baselessly. Sure, the punishment may not have precisely fit the crime, but…life was rarely fair. That was a lesson Keith had no choice but to learn.

As for the man's disposal, he was not subjected to the morgue treatment like the previous test subjects. Due to Marcus' desire to make changes to the virus' structure following that affair, he decided it was best to preserve a specimen within cryogenic fluid.

This would allow him to observe any changes between a subject with the original copy of the virus and one with the newly altered variation. Keith would thus serve as the embodiment of the original strain of the T-virus.

It was quite an important role, truly. He almost felt that it was too significant for a man like Keith to be in charge of it, but alas. That was how the die had been cast, so perhaps this could be seen as the man's redemption. He was finally going to make himself useful for once in his mediocre life!

Certainly, everything had gone rather smoothly since those experiments. After getting rid of those two, Marcus was able to begin his work on altering the origin virus. But—that was where the problem arose.

He couldn't deny that in recent times, he had been plagued with an uncanny feeling. Or, feeling may have been too strong of a word.

In truth, it wasn't a feeling as much as it was a mere sense. And frankly, he sometimes felt it may have been an irrational sense, nothing more than a ludicrous trick of his mind. For the longest time, that reasoning did make much more sense.

He had no true reason to believe that he was being watched, and that his experiments had been discovered and scrutinized…until now.

At first glance, nothing appeared to be out of order within the room. The furnishings of his lab hadn't moved even an inch. Each table was in its proper place, and every chemical remained in the same position on the shelf. The cryogenic chamber that housed Keith wasn't even disturbed, which almost undoubtedly would not be the case if someone had been in the lab. Why, it'd be much more likely that the police would already be banging down his door, in that case!

But the fact remained—something was amiss within his lab. And it was only natural that someone with observational skills as astute as Marcus' would recognize such a dilemma right away.

As soon as he stepped foot within the room, his eyes shot towards the issue as if a siren had been resounding in its place.

Hardly illuminated by the pale glow of the desk lamp, the dim outline of a sheet of paper could be seen laying on the cold floor. Just barely concealed by the heavy steel table above it; half of the page had been veiled by stark shadows. Although the distance between he and the paper had been vast, he was already well-aware of what that page must have entailed.

To be expected, his suspicions were proven true the moment that he walked towards the object of his concern, having knelt down and clutched the page between his fingertips.

This page in particular had outlined the overall results and analysis of his experiment on Dennis Midge. Of course, this meant that it detailed the circumstances that led to Midge's infection as well as the symptoms exhibited throughout the process. The end of the page thus described how Midge's disposal was handled.

It went without saying that the page was chock-full of vital information…so why had it been carelessly laying beneath a table? It was a fair question, albeit one that he may have already had the answer to.

"…Someone seems to suspect something about my experiments…" His low whisper broke the hollow stillness of the room while his cautious gaze shifted into one of disgust. He stared at the paper as if it were a piece of garbage, rather than an important part of his research. But, given the circumstances, his revulsion did appear to be well-warranted.

Granted, he had been known to be somewhat untidy with his files in the past…and in the present. Even now, the tops of his tables had hardly been visible due to the piles of papers scattered about.

With that being the case, the most obvious assumption would have been that this page was initially a part of that pile, where it must have fallen off from a gust of wind. His lab did get somewhat breezy during this time of year, so it may have stood to reason…except for the fact that he knew this page was never a part of that pile.

He may have been many things, but he was not a moron. What kind of an idiot would he have been to have left such a crucial and scandalous document laying within a mass of junk?

Those papers were wholly unrelated to his current research. Many of them had been articles on viruses, but certainly not Progenitor nor the T-virus. Besides them, there had been several papers discussing the biology of various species of animals. He did read those to give him some ideas during the animal experimentation portion of his research, but they weren't anything tremendously significant. As in, they were not directly related to his work in any substantial sense.

Therefore, why on earth would his own research have been compiled with them? Perhaps some of his older and more irrelevant work could have been treated so negligently. But ever since the beginning of his work with Progenitor and T, he made sure to keep all files related to those securely tucked away within his file cabinet. Needless to say, that cabinet was locked at all times.

That had been another problem in itself. If he kept his research in his secured file cabinet at all times, how did it escape from its containment? It certainly didn't grow legs and slip out on its own, so the only possibility would be if someone had swiped the key without his awareness.

Though he was ashamed to say, he didn't keep the key on him at all times. He usually kept it hidden under one of the chemicals on his shelf, which seemed like an excellent hiding spot, but…

In truth—it was entirely conceivable for someone to have crept in, found the key, and then used it to rummage through his files while he was away. Unlikely, perhaps, but conceivable nonetheless.

The culprit then, after finishing up their snooping, may have forgotten to put that page away with the rest. It's probable that it may have fallen, where it could have been swept under the table by the breeze. The perpetrator was likely in a rush to wrap up their infringement of his privacy, especially knowing that their time was severely limited.

It was common knowledge that he rarely ever left the laboratory building, and most were even aware that he slept in the lab itself, as well. Therefore, they must have somehow learned of a time when he would be in a separate room, and then very scrupulously planned their infiltration to be carried out in a way that would avoid detection.

With how swiftly this plot must have been accomplished, it's not unreasonable to assume that it may have been the work of a team of individuals. Surely that would have given them the edge on finding the key and taking care of business so quickly…

"…But, perhaps it's just my imagination."

In spite of his solemn train of thought, a humorous chuckle escaped his lips. It was surely contradictory to his previous contemplations, but he couldn't help it. The entire situation was nearly beginning to sound like the setup of a detective novel, wasn't it? And while his investigative skills were rather impressive, if he did say so himself—all of it did seem a bit…excessive.

Was it possible that his theory was flawless and he completely cracked the case? Certainly.

Just as well, it was possible that he may have been sounding the alarm much too soon. The largest inconsistency to this notion was that it was incredibly unlikely for someone to have discovered his experiments without already reporting him to Umbrella's headquarters, if not the police. Again, he hadn't been aware of any officers breaking down the door and holding him at gunpoint, so he may have been safe for the time being.

He supposed it was only natural for paranoia to begin pervading his mind, especially now. He may have done everything in his power to keep his work undetected, but it was undeniable that the weight of his experiments had been a heavy burden to bear. And the truth was…the further his work advanced, the greater that burden would become.

After all, he had already ended the lives of three individuals. That number would only continue to grow as time goes on…

There weren't many that could do something so callous while remaining entirely unperturbed, were there? Aside from serial killers and psychopaths, perhaps, but he hadn't been one of those in any way, shape, or form.

Unlike those sorts, Marcus had taken no pleasure from the cruelty involved in his experiments. The only joy he found through them was the delight of knowing his research would advance to the next stage. Nothing more, and nothing less…

…Nevertheless, the fact of the matter was that he would continue to commit such crimes in the name of his research. As the number of experiments grew, so too would the chance of those experiments' discovery. Each life lost by his hands would only serve to raise the stakes even higher.

How high would this mountain of bodies climb, he wondered? As of now, he had no way of knowing. He was only capable of looking ahead, doing his best to protect the secrecy of his experiments as he trekked onwards towards his destination.

He only needed to continue with this fearful game of constantly looking over his shoulders for a little while longer. As long as it would take to finalize his work on the T-virus…

Now, knowing just how risky his work had become, it was in his best interest to remain vigilant. Even if he was merely imagining things when it came to today's incident, it was quite likely that he wasn't off the hook just yet.

If no one had discovered his work now, they might—no, they will discover it, soon enough. He couldn't hide it forever, that much was clear. One way or another, someone would become suspicious of him. The only question worth asking was when it would happen…

But…even that was not a true cause for concern, was it? If someone did happen upon his research, then the solution was obvious…

"Well, if anyone does get too close, they may find themselves unexpectantly assisting in my research!"

The ominous words were accompanied by a low chuckle. Then with a dismissive shake of his head, he decided it was time to move on from this particular situation. As soon as he grabbed his research paper—the very same page that had caused this whole debacle to begin with—he unlocked the cabinet and placed it in its proper location.

Truly, there was no use spending so much of his precious time fearing the possibility of a disaster. That time would be put to much better use if he instead spent it on planning his next experiment, as well as the alterations he still wished to apply to the origin virus. He was a busy man, so any moment spent on frivolous concerns was of no value to him.

Although, if he was being honest…he was in need of his next test subject. If someone did happen to discover his experiments, that certainly would save him some time on choosing the subject himself, as well as the time needed to come up with a plan for the procedure.

It may have been more justified to experiment on someone in that circumstance, anyhow, seeing as they'd be nothing more than a rat unable to mind their own business. Surely a person of that caliber would not be missed…

It was an audacious, or perhaps more so cruel, sentiment from the man. He may have had less than fond opinions of the facility's inhabitants for the longest time, but even just a few months ago, such a remark would be completely out of the question. Regardless of how he felt about them, it was not his place to gauge the worth of someone else's life. There was a time where he understood this well, but now…

It was a clear indication that while he may not have been cut from the same cloth of someone who enjoyed committing murder, even he was not immune to the deterioration of one's mind that came with such an act. Just as each experiment provided a greater risk of discovery, each experiment also tore away another shred of his already crumbling morality.

It was to be expected. Even an individual at the peak of righteousness could not murder in cold blood time and time again without the act becoming normalized, as if it were a mere fragment of their daily routine. Each splash of blood strewn across their path would become a sight so typical that they would end up becoming utterly desensitized towards their own involvement.

Of course, one would not expect someone so virtuous to go around murdering people—it defied the very notion of what it meant to be virtuous in the first place.

In spite of that, every sin had a purpose to serve. If that person felt that they must murder someone for the greater good—maybe because they deemed them to be evil and deserving of that fate—then that would be all the reason they needed.

It certainly seemed like a valid justification. After all, there weren't many people that truly enjoyed the company of someone that appeared to be evil…or at least, however they chose to define evil.

So, those heroic figures would then walk on what they believed to be a path of justice, slaying all of the wicked scoundrels until the world was as upstanding as they hoped.

However, their morality could only remain intact for so long. No matter how pure their intentions may have been, nor how wholesome their ambitions were—they always ended up falling victim to their inner depravity sooner or later. One might say that the ends did not justify the means, so the hero became just as corrupt as the villain they hoped to defeat, if not worse.

As for how that bore any relation to Marcus…

It may have been an exaggeration to say he was once a saint, but he did possess a fine character and held his values close. He never strayed far from his ethics, and those that personally knew him would have gladly agreed that he was a man of great integrity.

But…perhaps he did not place his virtues on a pedestal as much as he did with his desire for results.

He was a scientific man through and through. With that came a determination to strive for the best results no matter the hardships he needed to endure. Science was a competitive field as it was, but the stakes were even higher within Umbrella, due to the center of their research having been based on the Progenitor virus.

It was an exceptional virus that contained extraordinary potential. With that in his hands, it was no wonder he became enthralled by his research. It was truly only a matter of time before he became enveloped in it entirely, desperate to make a breakthrough by any means necessary.

Even still, for many years his motivations and actions did remain impeccable. He began this work with the belief that someday, he could utilize the benefits of the virus in order to help humanity.

He knew that it was a tremendous undertaking, but he genuinely believed that he could accomplish it and that the world would be better off. The only boon he would have personally gained from this task was the knowledge he'd have received along the way, and that was more than enough for him. His goals were noble, and his intentions were virtuous.

However, somewhere down the line, he reached a point of divergence.

He could have continued on the principled yet idealistic path. Even if it meant his research would arrive at a dead end, and his dream would inevitably wither away. It would have been wasteful, yet honorable nonetheless.

Or, he could have tread upon the blood-soaked path of corruption. The possibilities were truly endless when all boundaries were lifted, without that pesky subconscious voice's attempts to guide you onto a more proper road. When you had countless opportunities at your fingertips, where at least one was guaranteed to be a success…who wouldn't wish to take the chance?

Like the many tainted souls that came before him, Marcus had long since taken his fall from grace. The glimmering light within him was dyed by the all-encompassing darkness, smothered by the pressure of his hefty ambitions.

Was there any hope left for a man such as him? He may have had endless possibilities when it came to future phases of his research, but somewhere within that world of choices…was there a chance for him to find some sort of redemption?

In his current state, likely not. He had no desire for redemption, he only sought results. He would ride this wave of depravity until the end, regardless of where it may lead him. He was far too gone to ever turn back, nor would he have wanted to. This was the path he had chosen, and he was well-aware of the consequences.

And whatever may happen…he would never regret a single thing he had done.

---

December 6th, 1977

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"All right, that should do it…" His voice was low but sharp as it pierced through the chilled air, the only other sound present having been the shrill scrawling of pen on paper. This was followed by a thin stack of papers being set onto the cool steel table, which led to him walking towards the nearby chair and plopping down onto it. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

As much as he would have liked to have a tranquil moment of rest, the frigid temperature of the lab kept him on edge. It was nearly the beginning of what would surely be a bitter winter, if the building's current state was to be trusted.

And while they did have a heating unit—particularly because the lab's location underground as well as the heavily steel interior made such a component a requirement—it was still rather lacking on days like this.

Marcus always did despise these sorts of extreme temperatures. The ideal workplace required a consistent and tolerable climate, not one where he nearly needed to bundle up inside his own lab!

Although, perhaps he shouldn't complain too much. As much as he loathed this weather, he'd time and time again choose an icy winter over a blistering summer…

Complaints aside, he wasn't letting the weather stop his ever-tenacious workflow. He made tremendous progress on the T-virus, thanks to his alterations of the origin virus. This was evident through his most recent experiments, to which he's devoted every bit of his effort into conducting.

In fact, he had just gotten done with another test subject today, along with finishing up his conclusions on the experiment a minute ago.

However, prior to that…

Something had crossed his mind after his tirade of paranoia last month. In order for him to protect the secrecy of his experiments, he thought it would be best if he went about them in a different way. Or, not a different way altogether, but instead simply a more varied method.

Up until now, his subjects have consisted solely of the facility's employees. This had appeared to work best in some manner, due to the relative ease in convincing an employee to partake in the experiment—not that they had actually been aware of the experiment portion...

However, this method appeared as though it may cause complications somewhere down the line. While employees had come and gone over the years, surely someone would eventually take notice of so many having left at once. He came up with relatively reliable excuses to justify the departure of the first three, but his explanations could only last for so long. So, he began to look past the employees…

…Towards the students.

Now, it wasn't as if he was going to use every single student in his experiments. There were only sixteen of them in each year, so only an idiot would believe that he could have gotten away with the entire class mysteriously vanishing. And of course, he had no desire to use Wesker nor Birkin in this way. Their lives possessed much more value than to meet with such horrific fates.

No doubt, he was only capable of using some of the students. He definitely needed to keep the number to a minimum, but it was better than using nothing but employees. Besides, it was quite logical for students to leave the facility from time to time.

Every school has its fair share of dropouts, and the Umbrella Executive Training Facility was no different. Over the years, there had been several students that quit amidst their training, usually at least a few in each year.

The key difference between this school and the others was that this one focused heavily on the many fields of science. Understandably, not everyone was cut out for the complexities involved with these branches, so an occasional deserter was never much of a surprise.

Marcus, for one, was never surprised by the students that quit, but he certainly had less than favorable things to say about those sorts. Why exactly would they have bothered signing up for the school if they were planning on quitting like an absolute imbecile? He felt sorry for the teachers who wasted their time attempting to drill knowledge into those hollow shells that they called a brain…

That said, there hadn't been any dropouts this year, at least as of now. Therefore, no harm could be done if he chose to…convince, a few to make their exit, right? This time, he would gladly approve of their sudden departure. Even better, no one should suspect a thing…

After he reached that conclusion, he made haste in continuing his experiments. Towards the end of November, he was able to begin and complete his work on two of the students.

Of course, these experiments did not occur at the same time. The second subject was not obtained until a few days after he finished his work with the first. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the stress of maintaining two zombies simultaneously again, so he thought this would be for the best.

It was easy to enlist their aid, since not many students could rightly refuse a meeting with the director of their school. The rest of the plan unfolded not much unlike the prior experiments. A short conversation followed by taking them by surprise with the sudden injection of the virus. Quite simple, really.

Naturally, he used the newly altered form of the T-virus to do this.

In order to create that new version, he gave the modified Progenitor to a new leech. That leech was then able to assimilate with Progenitor flawlessly, just as the initial one had. It then gave rise to the new version of T, which already appeared to be a great improvement on the original.

The difference that stood out to him most was that the transformation into a zombie had finalized within three days, rather than the customary four. The mutation process clearly had been sped up, as the symptoms practically appeared to hit the subject like a truck.

After the subject's initial collapse, he awoke several hours later to extreme agony, heavy perspiration, and severe irritation. These were no doubt comparable to what the previous subjects had faced, but as far as Marcus could tell, the burden did appear to be much harsher in this instance.

Shortly after, the man once again passed out. This sleep was ostensibly comatose, seeing as he didn't reawaken until the third day. It may have gone without saying, but he became a zombie after this point.

There had been no noteworthy discrepancies between the first and second experiments. The behaviors displayed were relatively the same as the first, and the progression took a mere three days as well.

Nearly a week later, Marcus began an experiment on the third student—which is what he had just finished up with.

After putting the ghastly creature to an eternal slumber, he wrote down his observations and prepared to get rid of the monster. Only this time, he would not be taking a simple trip to the morgue. As he had done with the last two subjects, he instead chose to send the corpses to various Umbrella-owned labs for further testing.

This action surely seemed wholly preposterous, especially considering his earlier bout of paranoia. How could he possibly take such a risk? But to be expected, his plans were not without their reasoning.

In spite of…no, because of his paranoia, it was virtually necessary to take this action.

Putting aside the initial infiltration of his lab, he began to think of things on a grander scale. There was, of course, the possibility of the facility's inhabitants learning of his work. But then, what about Umbrella itself? At this point, even they were likely to start having some suspicions of their own.

If Umbrella truly had an inkling of his research, then his silence would only become incriminating. It would be a telling sign that he was wrapped up in work that only his eyes were permitted to see.

Not only that, but Marcus had yet to reveal anything in regard to his recent findings on Progenitor, never mind the T-virus itself. They surely must have been growing curious by now…

If his incompliance continued, sooner or later, they were bound to take this interest into their own hands. Through the use of spies, cameras, and ploys, they would do whatever necessary in order to learn the truth of his research.

And what they would choose to do with that truth, well…only time could tell, but he certainly had his suspicions.

It was a complex situation, one that lacked a truly miraculous answer that would absolve him of his many troubles. He had little choice but to choose the one action that might give him just a bit of solace…

He would give them a meagre taste of his work, but certainly not the full course.

Therefore, he made the decision of sending the cadavers to Umbrella's various labs. They could study the body however they like, but they would not be able to acquire the T-virus from it, even if they were able to determine that a virus was indeed the cause of the subject's "mysterious illness."

There was, however, the possibility that it would be viewed as outlandish for him to have been in possession of dead bodies to begin with. Yet, in truth, he actually hadn't been too worried about this particular scenario quite as much.

With relative certainty, he did feel that the other lab's staff would have no real justification to believe that he killed those people. As long as they were unaware of this, then his chances of exposure remained slim.

Beyond that, it was far from uncommon for scientists to acquire corpses through other means and then use it for their research. He wouldn't be doing anything out of the ordinary, so most of them likely wouldn't think anything of it.

The use of cadavers had actually been a valuable practice for quite a while, since it allowed scientists in the days of old to gain a much greater understanding of internal anatomy than ever thought possible.

Not only that, but it also gave them the chance to further study any medical conditions that the person had. This created the possibility for them to develop more viable treatments based on their observations.

And because of the many advantages it granted, many of the early scientists were more than eager to make use of it. So eager, in fact, that many of them resorted to swiping the bodies from their very graves in order to conduct their research!

Due to the increased demand as well as the limited number of corpses legally supplied to them—in which those bodies were the remains of executed criminals—the act of robbing graves, while immoral, basically became a necessity.

Marcus undoubtedly sympathized with those dedicated researchers, as he was another one that refused to quit in his pursuit of knowledge. Still, he couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of it. Perhaps it was merely destiny for all scientists to throw away their ethics for the sake of their research? It was beginning to seem so!

Anyhow… Based on these conclusions, he felt that he should be able to avoid any trouble even with his act of sending the corpses to the other labs.

Plus, he was still enough of a team player to help out his fellow researchers and give them something fascinating to study. As long as they couldn't trace the exact origins of the T-virus and find a way to recreate it—whereas he was exceedingly confident that they could not—then he didn't care one way or another. They could have their fun, he figured.

And again, Umbrella should have been pleased to know that he was doing his part and sharing the wealth of knowledge. If he could get them off of his back, at least for a little while, then that was all that he really cared about.

Even still, he knew they'd find some way to be unsatisfied with this outcome, so they obviously wouldn't give up on their quest to discover the complete truth behind his work.

He'd need to remain on his guard, but that didn't come as a surprise. Umbrella's attempts to infiltrate his lab would only grow bolder throughout the passage of time, while his progress with the T-virus would become even more impressive…

Although, in regard to the original infiltration of his lab… He was beginning to have some doubts concerning his initial theory on the circumstances that had transpired.

The problem was, he had been going about the issue entirely wrong. He was under the impression that a mere student or employee may have discovered his work, which then made no sense as to why they hadn't reported him to the authorities by now.

Due to this flawed train of thought, the entire theory fell apart, causing him to have doubts about the validity of his suspicions.

However, the one theory that he never even considered…was that the person who found his work was already well-aware of the dangerous outcomes associated with it.

In this situation, the culprit would have expected depravity to be at work, so they'd have no reason to report it. Especially if, perchance…they were quite keen on the idea of taking that work for themselves…

…Which was something that may have truly resonated with his old friend, Spencer.

Aside from Bailey, he was the only one left that knew of the virus' potential, in addition to being the only one with the ability to send spies to do his bidding. It was completely conceivable for him to have sent a small group to infiltrate the lab and report back on any irregularities they discovered.

But since Spencer couldn't have known the exact details of Marcus' progress, that would explain the overall lack of visible discrepancies within the lab. He couldn't steal something if he didn't know what he was actually stealing, so any actions he had engaged in would only have been a prelude to his true schemes.

Obviously, the lack of hindsight wasn't enough to stop them from breaking into his file cabinet, though they were still foolish enough to leave evidence of their involvement.

Yet, now that Spencer had discovered what Marcus' T-virus was capable of…what would Spencer himself be capable of?

To sink so low as to steal from one that was once a close friend… Was it something that Spencer could do? It had been so long since Marcus had a conversation with the man, so it was impossible for him to say how far his character had diminished. And yet, if someone did break into his lab in an attempt to find and steal his work…then surely, he already had his answer.

It was not the answer Marcus had hoped for, that much was obvious. But to some extent, for a long time, he may have already expected this sort of outcome. He would merely repress the thought in order to preserve his trust in a formerly dear friend, but…the time for friendship and camaraderie had long since passed.

It was almost laughable, the very idea of it all. If his theory was true, then Spencer was actually going to try to steal his work, and likely had already made attempts to do so.

It seemed so contrary to what Marcus had always known the man to be like. Arrogant, vain, egotistical…but with the skills and intelligence needed to back up those behaviors.

After all, there was a reason behind the two having been sworn rivals ever since their youth. Spencer's talents easily rivaled his own—it was the only reason Marcus was even willing to tolerate that pompous attitude for so long…

And yet, look at how the mighty had fallen. Throughout these many years, Spencer must have been unable to make any breakthroughs in his work, while Marcus was making tremendous leaps within his.

The frustration and enervation of constant failures and lackluster results must have finally gotten to him. For one that had lived a life with nearly nothing but success, it's truthfully surprising that he hadn't been overcome by resentment much sooner. With his shortcomings in combination with his growing temper, he finally made the decision to turn his envious eyes towards Marcus' work…

No matter. If Spencer now fancied a game of trickery and deceit, then it was only fair for Marcus to oblige. He needed to keep his work secret no matter the cost, so if Spencer believed he could change that—he ought to think again.

Marcus would need to be extra cunning in his advancement of the T-virus from now on. Not only was it a necessity to evade detection from the inhabitants of the training facility, but he likewise needed to avoid the watchful eyes of both Umbrella and Spencer himself.

To some, this may have seemed overdramatic, but to Marcus, the facts were clear.

The world had turned against him, and he was the only one capable of keeping it at bay.

…He could only hope it wouldn't soon come crashing down upon him.

---

December 9th, 1977

---

"What the hell is going on here...?" The gruff voice came out barely above a whisper, with a sense of pure dread resonating from it.

Within his grasp was a single page, one that his intense gaze was fastened to. His dark eyes scanned the page once more to be sure that he hadn't misread it, but the same conclusion was reached yet again.

"…No way, something ain't right here." He shook his head in exasperation before tossing the page onto the sturdy oak table, crossing his arms while in contemplation. But before long, his train of thought was interrupted by his eyes idly trailing over to the dimly-lit screen of a computer's monitor.

"Maybe I ought to contact headquarters about this…"

He briefly considered the idea for only a moment before rolling his eyes, his hand rising to rub the faint stubble on his chin aloofly. "Nah, I doubt those idiots would have any idea either. I'm just gonna have to figure it out myself."

He placed his arms behind his head and leaned back into the silky cushion of his seat, casually propping a foot onto the table in the process.

Despite his prominent ranking as assistant director of the Umbrella Executive Training Facility, Adam Davids was always a rather easygoing and laidback fellow. Many of the staff and even the students could agree that he was an all-around good guy. He was easy to talk to, and with a decent sense of humor on top of it.

In many ways, he served as quite the contrast to the stern director of the school, James Marcus. Even still, there were times when polar opposites made the best of teams, so they could have functioned well as allied managers.

The only problem with that particular idea was that Marcus didn't bother with school management in the slightest. Davids hadn't even seen the man in-person for a few months, but he heard that he would stop by on rare occasions to grab a few things from his office, or something like that.

The other employees tended to take issue with the director's extremely hands-off approach to the job. They'd often complain that Marcus was only allowed to get away with such indolence because of his friendship with the company's founder—though they'd always conveniently forget that Marcus was also a founder of the company.

Davids, on the other hand, didn't care one way or another. Marcus may not have been the best manager, truthfully speaking, but Davids was paid well enough that he didn't mind taking on a bit of an extra burden.

He already had the responsibilities associated with being the assistant director as well as the students' biology and business instructor, so why not take on whatever tasks Marcus neglected too? He was a very work-oriented man and took his career seriously, so he genuinely didn't mind.

Besides, the neglected duties weren't even that much of a hassle. They were primarily ones that just involved checking up on the students and staff, so they weren't exactly strenuous work. Davids had basically always taken care of that anyway, even back in the years when Marcus tried to do it himself.

But surprisingly enough, once Marcus had given up on bothering, he actually ended up giving Davids a raise.

He really wasn't expecting that, seeing as he honestly wasn't doing any more than he originally was. He brought this up with the director, since he couldn't in good conscience accept more money for virtually no reason. But Marcus only said that he was always a hard worker and did more than even needed, so he felt the raise was a necessity. With that sort of reasoning, he really couldn't complain.

He was undoubtedly grateful, too. The extra money could really help, so he'd take whatever he could get. But since he still did feel that the raise wasn't entirely warranted, he ended up taking on even more daily tasks in order to make sure it was a fair trade.

It was plain to see that the man was somewhat of a workaholic, but the other employees certainly didn't mind. It saved them from having to do more work, too.

Perhaps his hardworking nature was part of the reason he was so determined to find the answer to the current dilemma he was faced with. Because while he initially thought nothing of it, he had finally come to the realization that something was, without a doubt, amiss around the training facility.

It seemed that people kept…well, disappearing, to put it frankly. And these weren't just ordinary departures, either.

Obviously, the facility wasn't some sort of prison where you could never leave. People left all the time, whether it was just to go home for vacation, or if it was an employee that decided it was finally time to resign. It wasn't the most exciting career, Davids could admit that, so there were a few that ended up taking their leave. There were even a couple of students that dropped out every now and then, too.

But lately—since the beginning of last month, it seemed— these departures were happening rapidly. None of them gave any prior notice, either.

First it seemed like it was just the employees, since three of them left in a fairly short period of time. But a couple of weeks ago, two students were gone, and then another one left a few days ago.

The paper Davids received today was written by the last student, Martin Royce, announcing he was dropping out. He just left it in his dorm without a word, no one had even seen him leave. Not to mention, the other students didn't even know he was thinking of quitting. He had never mentioned it before, so it came as a surprise to everyone.

Royce wasn't the only one that left numerous mysteries in his wake, however. Even Davids' old buddy Mathews, who had been an employee of the facility since the beginning, just up and left last month. Despite the two being close, he didn't say anything to him about it.

Suffice to say, Davids had been pretty peeved. If Mathews was thinking of leaving, then of course he would understand. But to leave without even giving him any sort of notice? It was not only unprofessional, seeing as Davids was still his superior, but it was also a betrayal, too.

To make matters worse, every call made to Mathews' house went straight to voicemail, and even the letter he sent last month was never given a reply. He was unable to get into contact with him at all, so he was truly helpless in finding out what had caused the man to leave.

It was honestly starting to become downright bizarre. Mathews was always such a friendly guy; even nicer than Davids by far. It made no sense for him to suddenly start ignoring him, especially since their last conversation had ended on a fine note.

As much as Davids wanted to be mad at him for this, he instead could only feel disappointment, as well as confusion.

The only thing he did wonder is that maybe there was a chance Mathews didn't intend to leave like he did, and instead something terrible had happened to him. But how could that have been the case? The facility was free of danger, there was nearly no way of something like that happening. Unless he had gone out to the forest and was injured, but that wouldn't make sense either. He knew well how to defend himself…

He gave a low scoff as he leaned further back into his chair, his eyes wandering towards the trophy of a moose's head that hung on the wall, just above the unlit fireplace. It was a deep brown, and a fairly large size. A menacing gaze could be seen within its dark eyes.

"Feels like just yesterday that we reeled that one in, huh…" A solemn smile formed on his lips as he watched the unmoving creature, reflecting on the day that he had caught it.

Davids always enjoyed hunting, ever since his dad taught him how to do it so many years ago. He had gotten a few more trophies back when he was younger, which remained in his house to this day. But this one in particular was caught not long after he moved into the training facility.

It had been quite a few years since he last went on a hunt, so he was admittedly a bit rusty. But knowing that the facility was located just at the edge of Raccoon Forest, he couldn't help his excitement. He knew there'd be plenty of game for him to catch, and he wouldn't even need to travel far to do it.

It was a great opportunity to refresh his skills, and he was even able to use his services to supply many delicious meals to the facility's inhabitants over the years.

As for that moose trophy, it was the first catch he made after moving here. To be expected, he was a little out of practice, but he got caught up quickly enough.

Besides that, he didn't do it alone. He had help from Mathews, who he met shortly after they began their work at the facility. The two had hit it off right away, with their chats and visits to the facility's bar becoming a frequent pastime during their breaks. Then eventually, hunting was another hobby they were able to add to the list.

Davids still remembered when he first asked Mathews to join him for a hunt. He had asked it so casually, which completely took Mathews by surprise. He didn't understand what was so shocking about it, but apparently the man had never even hunted before, so it must have seemed like a really unusual question.

Mathews' reaction was the most surprising part of it to Davids, but that was likely since he came from a long line of hunters. Many of his friends growing up were the same way, so it was a very ordinary part of his life.

Still, despite his lack of experience, Mathews was willing to give it a try. Davids took it upon himself to teach him, but they actually ended up discovering that the man was a real natural at it. With their talents combined, it didn't take long for them to make a great catch.

To add to the exhilaration, he still remembered the expressions of the employees when the two dropped the headless moose onto the dining hall's table. All of the color had drained from their faces the instant they had seen it. None of them had a clue as to how to cook it, either, but Davids didn't mind doing it himself.

Over the years, he had fancied himself as a pretty decent chef. And once everyone had their share of his cooking, they all could gladly agree.

Even the director showed up for the meal, too. It was shocking, since he was already often cooped up in either his office or the lab by this point. Likewise, he almost never ate with the rest of the group, but upon Davids' request, he surprisingly was willing to.

The thought of dining on a moose was fairly odd to him, as it was to the other residents, but even he ended up enjoying it quite a bit. It was rather amusing to see the contrast of his expression going from the initial concern to an unexpected delight.

Overall, it was definitely an entertaining day, one that he could always look back on fondly. He was actually hoping to go on another hunt with his pal soon, but…perhaps it wasn't in the stars this time.

He hated feeling sorry for himself, so he tried to avoid the thought altogether. But every now and then it forced itself into his mind, making him feel bad all over again. It became particularly prominent in his contemplations lately, since he was so preoccupied with the whole vanishing occupant issue. After all, Mathews wasn't the only person to leave, although he was the first.

Davids didn't know the other two employees that left all that well, so there wasn't much he could say about them. The only thing he did know is that apparently the one, Midge, had gotten real sick and needed to be taken to a hospital in an emergency evacuation. Keith supposedly caught the same sickness from him, so he was evacuated too.

For the most part, their reasons for leaving did appear to be valid, but something still didn't seem right here. What kind of illness was so bad that they got it and needed to be sent to a hospital within a mere few days? From what he heard, the symptoms were absolutely terrible, too. It couldn't have been an ordinary cold, and maybe not even the flu.

But why were those two the only ones to catch it? And why did they seem to get it not long after Mathews left? And did it have anything to do with the students that were suddenly dropping out? Those three weren't said to be sick, so it may have been unrelated, but…

Unfortunately, there were too many questions left without answers. And since he had only straws to grasp on, his investigation didn't seem like it would get him very far. Along with the fact that no one else had any clue as to what exactly was going on, Davids was running severely low on options.

He considered abandoning the issue entirely, in hopes that there actually wasn't anything to worry about and it was all a mere coincidence. But then, on that same note, that scenario was incredibly unlikely. Even if it was as simple as them leaving because they were fed up and couldn't deal with the facility any longer, that was still a problem in itself.

Headquarters had always been great at finding useless students and even the occasional rotten employee, but this many at once? This was just awful, and he'd definitely need to have a word with them in that case. But, before that…there was still one person that he hadn't asked.

"Hmph… I doubt he knows anything either. He barely even knows any of the employees, never mind the students. But I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask…" He muttered to himself as he sat up straight, lightly stretching his muscular arms afterwards.

He swept his disheveled black bangs away from his eyes before reaching for the phone across the table. Upon dialing the number, he waited for an answer, but it never came. Dialing it again provided the same result, causing him to release a small sigh.

Marcus did have a phone in the laboratory's building, from what Davids could remember, but it was possible that he didn't have one in his actual lab room. With how devoted the man was to his research, he was probably in there all day, every day. It was conceivable that he may never pick up…

It was quite the predicament. He could have just called it a day and abandoned the idea to ask Marcus. That probably would have made more sense, seeing as the chance of the man having any clue was extremely implausible. But then again…could he have known something?

Marcus had been the one who witnessed Midge in his ailing state and then called for the helicopter to pick him up, so he clearly saw how bad the man's condition was. And since he was so knowledgeable in virology, maybe he could tell if Midge's condition was caused by some type of virus?

If it really was just a simple case of the flu, then that would be understandable enough. That information could help to solve the case with Midge and Keith, if nothing else.

As for Mathews, he couldn't imagine Marcus would know anything about that. More than likely, Mathews just totally bailed and went back home, never to bother with the school again. He didn't know what could have caused that change of heart, but apparently, he would never know…

The same could be said of the students, it was unimaginable that Marcus would know anything. He obviously wasn't a fan of associating with the students, so he probably didn't even realize that any of them were missing. It was just another mystery that may never be solved...

But one solution out of three wasn't so bad, so it seemed worthwhile enough to get Marcus' input on it. The man didn't seem like he'd be answering the phone any time today, though, so that would be a problem. Davids really just wanted to get this situation done and over with so he could go back to focusing on his own work, so the sooner he took care of it—the better.

"It's still early…" He spoke while directing his gaze towards the nearby clock, noting that it was only past two in the afternoon.

He crossed his arms before giving a slight grimace. "The director was never really a fan of having visitors, but…this is technically important business." He continued to contemplate it for a few seconds, stuck between his initial idea to wait until Marcus picked up the phone or to just visit the lab himself. Perhaps it was against his better judgement, but he opted for the latter choice.

He stood and stretched a bit as he prepared to leave his office. The laboratory was located just below the church, which was behind the school. It was a bit of a walk from his office, but he didn't mind at all. He had been in that stuffy room all day, so he could use the extra exercise anyway.

He did go to the lab a few times in the past, generally to speak of other work-related inquiries that were best discussed in-person.

As he said, Marcus didn't like to have company all that much, but he never made that big of a deal over it. Generally, it just took him by surprise—during the few times Davids was unable to let him know about the visit in advance—but he would get over it quickly enough. He figured it would probably unfold the same way this time as well.

---

Ding!

The high-pitched sound was followed by the mechanical hum of doors sliding apart. Davids slowly emerged from the elevator, taking a quick glance around to observe his surroundings. After a moment, he spoke in a low voice.

"Awfully quiet in here, but he's gotta be around somewhere..." He muttered under his breath, finally shaking his head with a half-shrug. "Well, only one way to find out."

He crossed the narrow corridor lined with various paintings, quickly reaching the door at the end. Unsurprisingly, the door had two statues lining both sides of it. Both were crafted in the image of an elegantly dressed, beautiful woman. The director always did love his art...

As a matter of fact, there was a room in the school building filled with nothing but piles of paintings and a few statues. Marcus probably wanted to hang them around somewhere, but the school was pretty packed as it was, and he could imagine the lab was probably the same way by now.

Honestly, Marcus did seem like a bit of a hoarder when it came to art, but Davids didn't judge him for it. There were worse things to hoard, at the least.

That aside, he knocked on the door in front of him and waited for a few seconds, but there was no answer. He considered walking away and trying another door, but seeing as this was Marcus' office, he used to be in there pretty often. Plus, it led to another door in the back, so it was possible that he was in that room and just didn't hear him knocking.

He decided to enter anyway, with hopes that the director wouldn't be peeved if he was in there.

"Hey, Director Marcus?" He called out as he turned the knob and stepped in, taking a quick peek to determine if anyone had been around. It was hard to see because of the dim lighting of the room, but he appeared to be alone.

He took a few more steps, and as he turned the corner, he saw a much brighter source of light emanating from the back of the room. Once he walked closer, he saw that it was a large aquarium, glowing with a radiant blue light. There were a few things swimming around eagerly, but it took him a few seconds to recognize what they actually were.

"Are those…" He squinted as he leaned forward, mumbling, "leeches?" As he continued to observe the skinny little creatures whirling about, they definitely did seem to be leeches.

After a minute, he gave a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "I mean…most people probably prefer a goldfish, but I guess that's fine too. At least he's keeping himself busy, eh?"

There was nothing else of interest within the room, mostly just Marcus' cluttered desk and a bunch of ornaments and the like. He decided to knock on the door towards the back of the room, but again, there had been no answer. He took a quick peep inside, but he only saw more art objects lying about. And oddly enough, there was also a bed.

Considering Marcus never bothered to go back to the facility to sleep, that probably checked out. All of this time, Davids had just thought the man must have been falling asleep at his desk! This realization made a lot more sense.

Having figured that there was nothing left to do in these rooms, Davids returned to the hallway. He didn't bother checking the cable car platform, since that only led to another Umbrella factory. It was unlikely that Marcus would have had any business there, so there was no need to worry about it.

He did investigate the other room in the hall, however, which led to a small study. There were some interesting books about the sciences on the shelves—including a few that Davids wouldn't mind reading some time—but besides that, Marcus was nowhere to be found.

He finally decided to just go upstairs, in which the semi-spiral staircase ran directly into one of the lab rooms. This was the smaller lab, only containing a few shelves lined with chemicals and tools, along with a computer on the opposite side of the room.

Typically, the lab manager, Savage, would be around here. But Davids recalled that the man was off today, probably relaxing with a drink at the facility's bar.

Still, Marcus wasn't here either. There were a few more rooms on this floor, so he should be around somewhere. It would certainly be problematic if he actually wasn't in the building, though…

He left the room, thus arriving in another hallway. One of the rooms led to a storage room, which did possess a lot of cages in varied sizes. Marcus must have been doing some sort of animal research, he figured.

Another room led to the upper level of the cable car platform, which was again, not needed.

The final door in the hall led to the larger lab, which Davids thought for sure Marcus would be in. But a swift glance revealed that his theory was wrong, so he chose not to linger. He instead went through the door directly in front of him.

This room was mostly an extension of the lab, or something along those lines. There were a few more shelves with tools and scientific machines, along with a few operating tables. There was no sign of Marcus in there, and even now, Davids still couldn't perceive any movement, speaking, or anything.

There was only one room left, so if Marcus wasn't in there, then this trip would have been a total waste of time.

Walking towards that door in the center of the room, he took a deep breath, slowly turning the knob…

"Director Marcus…?" His voice was hushed as he began to step through the door, his eyes peering as he discerned the area. For some reason, the atmosphere itself began to feel awfully… bleak, and cold.

The dreary lighting only added to the sense of gloom that enveloped the area, aided by the dull grey of the cabinets covering the walls.

Then, perhaps the most noticeable sense he got…was that there was a weak but grotesque smell permeating the air, a scent of pure rot. What could cause a laboratory to smell so…abysmal?

"What's going on in here…?" He mumbled aloud, scrutinizing the room for any sense of purpose it may have possessed. But the only thing that stood out were the many cabinets that sat in place, housing what he would imagine to have been files…

…Only that wasn't the case.

Each drawer had a large window in the center of it, which wasn't something he had typically seen on file cabinets. It provided a clear view of the items inside, allowing him to see that most of the drawers were empty. But as he walked past them, keeping his eye on each window, eventually—he saw one that wasn't vacant.

He subconsciously gulped, an intense anxiety beginning to make its way into his chest. He couldn't know for sure what was in that dark, lumpy object behind the glass, but he had a very bad feeling about it.

"No…there's no way… Why would…" His inner thoughts spilled out, greatly adding to his rising sense of unease. But he knew that there was no use in asking questions. The only way to find out…was to open it.

While he slowly extended his arm towards the handle of the drawer, he began to anxiously bite his lip for only a moment. As soon as his grip was on the handle, he jerked the door open with one swift motion, nearly ripping it off of its hinges as it clattered against the drawer to its side.

That turned out to be a mistake, as a pungent smell of festering meat immediately washed over him, causing him to gag while his eyes instantly began to water.

"Good God…" He choked out, rubbing his eyes with one of his hands while the other held his nose. "Why the hell is something like this here—wh…why does the director have this?!"

He couldn't contain the volume of his voice when faced with the countless questions that flooded through his mind. There was no doubt, something was in that bag…

Something that was once alive.

He desperately wanted to think of a logical and sane reason for something like this—to think of anything that would prove he was merely overreacting.

The director had been doing animal experiments, so maybe it was just that he kept the deceased bodies in there. Even that would have been strange, but then again, if he just needed them for further research…

But…that wasn't in the form of any ordinary lab animal. It was much too large, and it even appeared to be covered in lumps, as if the body was just shoved in there.

Throughout his search for answers, there was one thing that continued to flash through his mind…

…The missing staff.

As much as he wanted to get out of there immediately, he knew very well that he may have just stumbled upon the answer he was searching for all along. For the sake of his duty as the assistant director of the training facility…he had no choice. He needed to see this through to the end.

He grasped the table that the bag-like object sat on, then slowly pulled, sliding it out enough so that he could have a complete view.

In its entirety, it was clear that it was a bulky black bag, with a small zipper at the very top of it. There was nearly no doubt left in his mind at this point, but he took the zipper in his hand, slowly pulling it down…

Even more of that godforsaken smell poured out, causing him to swiftly turn his head by reflex. But as his gaze gradually returned, he saw it.

It was a head.

And not only a head, but one that was rotten nearly beyond recognition. But the strangest thing was, it hadn't looked decomposed—not in the ordinary sense. It almost was like…it was never human to begin with.

The hair was thin and frayed, while the skin was a ghastly grey color. There were many tears in the skin, exposing the foul flesh. And the expression was one unlike anything he had ever seen, it was purely…monstrous.

Having been in the biology field, he did need to work with dead bodies before. But this…this wasn't right. This couldn't have been a typical case of using regular cadavers, something had been done to this person.

"Wait a minute… Could it be...?" Upon taking a closer look at the body—much to his nose's dissatisfaction—he got a sense of familiarity from it.

It appeared to be…Dennis Midge.

He truly did wish that he was only imagining things, and that perhaps the smell simply had him becoming delirious. But there was no doubt, he remembered seeing Midge around quite a few times, and this corpse looked just like him. Or, well…a putrefied version of him.

"But…if that's Midge, then…" The color poured out of his face at that moment, a realization dawning on him. He immediately turned around, rapidly scanning the array of containers until one stood out to him.

There was another body.

He ran towards it and thrust the door open, wholly disregarding the metallic clang as he slid the table out.

"God, please don't tell me…" His voice shook while he uttered the same few words to himself continuously. He gradually reached his hand towards the zipper, finally faced with the realization of the director's doings. The truth behind everything was…

Clang!

All faded to black.

---

"Unbelievable! The one time I just happen to not lock all of the doors before leaving, then this happens. Does anything ever work in my favor?" He grumbled as his fist pounded onto the table, a frustrated groan escaping his lips afterwards.

He quickly stood and paced towards the small chamber in the corner of his room, giving a low sigh upon the sight of the man that remained unconscious. He grimaced as he returned to his chair, placing a hand on his temple while he began to think.

"If nothing else, this does mean that I've discovered the pesky rat that's been sticking their nose where it doesn't belong. But to think, it was Davids of all people?" He muttered to himself, sounding almost offended at the thought. "I hadn't even expected the possibility, but I should have known. He's the assistant director, of course he would start to have concerns over the missing staff…"

He cursed himself for failing to think of such an obvious outcome. It would have made more sense to have gotten rid of Davids to begin with, but instead, he let him wander around completely unattended! He truly did bring this upon himself, so now it was time for him to remedy it.

But before all of this, Marcus had been having an ordinary day. He hadn't conducted any new experiments yet, as he was attempting to lay low for a bit, due to the whole spy issue. He eventually decided that he needed to grab a few things from the school facility, so he did leave for a short period of time. Although, of course, he forgot to lock the doors first.

He only realized it once he was already in the school, but knowing that he would only take about fifteen minutes, he really didn't think anything could happen so suddenly. He was even certain that his lab was completely vacant before he left. Savage hadn't been there today, so everything should have been fine. But clearly, nothing ever worked out so easily for him.

As soon as he returned to the upper level of the laboratory, he heard some sort of clanging from one of the rooms. He immediately rushed to his personal lab room, but surprisingly, no one was there. But as he entered the neighboring room, it became clear to him that the culprit had been rummaging around in the morgue. So, he did what any rational and intellectual person would do…

…He grabbed a metal tray and as soon as he opened the door, he walloped the culprit over the head.

Marcus really didn't have much time to think about it in the moment, so he didn't even recognize the man at first. But he was at least thankful that the man didn't recognize him, either, as he was much too busy panicking over the dead bodies. Honestly, he was clearly very good at concentrating, seeing as he was so focused on the body that he hadn't even heard that accursed creaky door.

But…perhaps Davids wouldn't have considered that level of concentration to have been much of a boon in this case.

Well, nevertheless. After knocking him out, Marcus dragged him back into the lab and placed him into the sterilization chamber. To be expected, he then injected him with the T-virus, so his days were surely numbered.

It was truthfully a shame; he always did like Davids to an extent. He was friendly enough, and he was more than happy to take on a role more akin to what Marcus' job should have been.

In reality, Davids was more so the actual director of the training facility. Marcus gave that status up long ago, so at this point it belonged to him in name only. Yet, Davids never once complained about the extra work he needed to do as a result…

There was no use fretting over it. It was clear to him now that this was bound to happen at some point, because Davids had too much control. He could easily realize that people were disappearing rapidly, because he was in charge of keeping track of everyone.

…The truth was, Davids' death was nothing more than an inevitability of fate.

Marcus soon began to ponder when the man would wake up. It had been a few hours since he knocked him out, along with the injection of the virus, so typically this would be around the time the subject would awaken. He would need to prepare himself for an outburst of screaming and cursing, he supposed…

Then, as if on cue, he began to hear a faint rustling from the man's location, followed by a few strained coughs. Within seconds, the man started to rise.

He was hunched over and holding his stomach, surely already feeling the effects of the improved T-virus. His hair messily obscured his face, rendering his expression unreadable. But Marcus was already well-aware of what the man's reaction would be, so it really didn't matter.

An anger-induced rant of pure rage clearly awaited…

"So, you've finally awoken." He asserted as he turned towards the chamber, grabbing a tablet and a pen before standing. "Good, I need to know what business you had for snooping around my lab while I was away." His calm expression shifted into a scowl as he approached the glass, staring at the pained man with disgust. "Or, rather, who it is that you're working for."

The man had no reaction at first, but at the last sentence, suddenly stepped back. He swept his hair aside, revealing a look of both discomfort and bewilderment. "Who…I'm working for?" His eyebrow rose, while he tilted his head in confusion. "Director Marcus, I, I don't… I was just…the missing staff, and…" He strained to get each word out, with most of it sounding more like random fragments of gibberish.

His hazy stare slothfully shifted to the side, causing him to witness something he hadn't even noticed when he momentarily entered the room previously.

A few feet away from him was a large case containing some sort of clear fluid, along with what appeared to be a man's body standing within it. His vision was too blurred to make it out, but even in his disoriented state, he knew it must have been one of the missing individuals.

"That's right… Mathews, was he…?" He muttered wearily, continuing his attempts to focus on the specimen, but soon after gave up. There was no way he could concentrate well enough right now, so even if that was his friend, he wouldn't know.

On top of the extraordinary aching he felt throughout his body, his head was spinning relentlessly, along with an intense pounding within it. He was using the last of his strength to stand, so that he could at least find some sort of closure to all of this, but he didn't know how long he'd be able to hold out…

Marcus could barely make out most of his words, but he could see that the man didn't have an actual answer to his question. Though surprisingly enough, he wasn't shouting, and seemed to be rather composed. He supposed that could be attributed to the man's current state of weakness, although even the most recent subjects were able to throw a tantrum for at least a little while.

He sighed, putting the thought aside, but then acknowledged the name that was mentioned. "Mathews?" He placed a hand on his chin, believing it to be somewhat familiar before the realization finally occurred to him. "Oh yes… Kyle Mathews, was it? He was my first test subject. Why do you ask?"

Upon noticing that the man had been despondently staring towards the specimen case, he figured that he understood the purpose. "Him? No no, that's not Mathews. That one was…Keith, I believe."

He grimaced, shaking his head at the reminder. "Ugh… I must say, I absolutely was not a fan of that one. Which is why it's especially aggravating that I have nowhere else to put him right now. I obviously can't leave him anywhere that Savage will find him, so I'm stuck with him in here…"

Davids listened to his rant with a vacant stare, having no change in expression other than a small breath of relief. But it was only a slight reprieve to know that his friend wasn't the dead body standing a mere few feet away. If that wasn't Mathews, then that second body in the morgue must have been…

As Marcus ended his rambling, he focused his irritation onto Davids instead, raising a brow along with an irked frown. "Wait a moment, why do you even need to ask? You're merely a spy sent by Spencer, likely the same one that raided my lab last month. You obviously know all about my test subjects, don't you?"

Davids looked up, his eyes widening with a solemn expression. "Spencer?" He questioned before giving a weak shake of his head. "I don't… I don't know what you're talking about, seriously…" He finally collected his bearings enough to get a full sentence out, in which his confusion was clear.

"Look, I…I shouldn't have gone in your lab, I know… I just wanted to ask you…about the missing staff." He took a deep breath as he began to sweat, his fatigue growing rapidly. "I heard the two were sick, so I thought…you may have known something, since you're real good with that type of stuff. But…" He gave a strained chuckle, followed by a fit of coughing. "Looks like I caught that same sickness now…didn't I?"

Marcus rolled his eyes at the comment, crossing his arms. "As if you hadn't already expected me to be the culprit behind their disappearance. Do you honestly believe I have no idea about all of your true feelings towards me?"

He scoffed, turning away in disgust. "Every single one of you… I know the words you speak of behind my back. You all have viewed me as some sort of lunatic for such a long time—long before I even thought to commit these acts. Even your friend Mathews felt the same way, so I'm certain that I was the first to come to mind once you realized they were missing."

"That's not true!" He spoke in a raised voice for the first time, taking the other man by surprise. But he quickly calmed down, meekly shaking his head. "I mean… I can't deny that I was aware of the things the others have said… But I know for a fact that Mathews never agreed with them, and I never did either. I always thought you were a good guy, you know? A little unsociable, sure, but good nonetheless…"

At that, Marcus fell silent. It was very possible that the man was merely saying this because of the situation that he found himself in, so he was simply trying to convince Marcus to somehow save him. And yet…the sincerity that he spoke with was a source of concern.

It almost sounded like…he may have been telling the truth.

It's true that Davids always had been friendly to him, and he never gave Marcus any reason to believe that he harbored ill will. Unless he was only faking that kindness the entire time, but…it never seemed that way.

As for Mathews, well… It may have been possible that he had misinterpreted his feelings. After all, when he called Marcus a psychopath, that was at the time where he was dying as a result of Marcus experimenting on him. It was…conceivable, that he may have only felt that way in that particular moment…

He began to bite his lip; a newly formed turmoil being waged from within. Was it possible that Marcus had been wrong all along? Was this man truly telling the truth…?

His judgements that he believed to be infallible may have just shattered, leaving him utterly unaware of what to believe.

His findings…had fallen apart.

"I… It doesn't matter." He spoke sharply as he returned to his desk. "Regardless of how you feel, the damage is already done. Your friend is already dead, and soon enough, you will be too. You'd be better off bracing yourself for the pain to come. I can assure you that it will not be a peaceful end." His callous words were betrayed by an anguished grimace, but it had gone unseen by the other man.

"Yeah…I thought so." He looked down, already feeling the effects of the virus in an abundance. The pain was only getting worse each moment that passed, but he couldn't let it end, not like this. There was one thing he needed to do…one last thing.

After a few minutes, he spoke in a low voice. "Hey, Director Marcus…could I ask you for a favor?"

He was alarmed by the sudden dialogue, but didn't turn away from his desk, scribbling something onto a tablet. "If it's to reverse the effects of the virus, then that's not something I am capable of. The T-virus has no known cures at this time."

"Nah, that's not what I wanted to ask…" He gave a weak smile in an attempt to fight the grief he felt from those words. Even if he had expected it, hearing it outright did sting a little. Still, it wasn't the time to worry about that.

"I don't expect you to do it, but…" He paused, coughing once before continuing, "Could you maybe…write a letter to my wife?"

The clatter from his pen falling to the table could be heard as his eyes widened. A sharp pang of guilt suddenly pierced his chest as his frown grew deeper. "…I wasn't aware that you were married."

"Yeah, her name's Maria. We've been married for…what is it, thirteen years now?" His smile grew from the memory, though a clear sadness was evident in his eyes. "We have a daughter, too, our little Stella…" His smile widened as he then took a step back, leaning against the wall for extra support. "She just turned ten in September. It sure felt surreal, knowing she was already getting so much older. They really do grow up so fast… Feels like we just had her yesterday…"

Marcus began to wonder if the man was doing this on purpose, deliberately trying to make him feel ashamed. Even if it was warranted, he still didn't like the feeling. He hurriedly spoke up, largely so that he wouldn't need to hear any more of it.

"What do you expect me to write in this letter?" He asked sharply, his gaze remaining fastened to the papers before him.

"Ah, nothing too fancy, I suppose…" He raised a hand to rub his chin as he thought about it. "Mainly just that I love them, but that I won't be able to come home again…"

"I won't allow anything that would incriminate myself." He warned as he quickly turned, sending a cold glare towards the man.

"Yeah, I know." He spoke in agreement, scratching his arm lightly. "Just tell 'em it happened 'cause of one of my hunting trips." He chuckled, looking down sadly. "My wife always hated me going on those. She swore I'd end up getting myself killed one of these days. Hate to prove her right, but…"

Silence enveloped the room for a moment, but then Davids spoke up again. "Oh, right… And could you tell her that I'm really sorry I won't be able to provide for them anymore? They'll be able to live off of my savings for a little while, but after that… I can only pray that they'll be able to stay on their feet."

…There was that feeling again, that loathsome aching within his chest. He was so certain that he had put such useless feelings aside—that he needed no foolish sympathy to hold him back from accomplishing his goals. And yet, here he was, stuck in the same position he had longed to escape.

He almost had done it, he hardly felt even a shred of guilt over the last few test subjects. But now, knowing that he was truly ruining not only the life of his subject, but the subject's family, as well… He was unable to sit there and feel nothing, as much as he despised the sensation.

His weakness was truly detestable. He questioned if he would ever be free of his trifling sentiments so that he could do his work in peace. But regrettably, today was not that day…

"…I will prolong your salary, so that you may continue to have your wages sent to your family."

"Wait…huh?" He reflexively leaned forward, raising his brows at the comment. "Are…are you serious?" He mumbled in utter disbelief. "I don't understand… Why would you do that?"

After a minute of silence, Marcus finally exhaled in resignation. "I won't apologize for what I have done. We both know that it would be futile, for my actions could never be remedied. Beyond that, your death was necessary to not only advance my work, but also to ensure that the truth of it never comes to light. And yet…"

He paused for a brief moment, then stood and turned towards the man. "No matter how far I have fallen, I still cannot bring myself to relinquish the entirety of the guilt I feel towards my own actions. Due to this…it truly is the least I could do." He gave a warm smile of reassurance, even if he didn't feel he deserved to smile, given the circumstances.

"Wow… I don't really know what to say, but…" He formed a smile of his own, one filled with genuine relief. "Just…thank you, Director Marcus."

The gratitude came as a great surprise to him, so he immediately shifted so that the man wouldn't see his unease. But even aside from that, the statement was completely confusing. Illogical, even!

"…How can you thank the man who singlehandedly ruined the lives of both you and your family?" He spoke quietly, unable to resist asking the obvious question.

Even if thanking someone was the natural reaction when they did a favor for you, it made no sense to do it in this case. Favor or not, their lives would be forever altered for the worse because of his actions. Surely Davids could have—and should have—forgone the courtesy this time…

"Yeah, might be a little weird…" He agreed, coughing a few times afterwards. "But…you didn't need to do either of those things for me, but you said you would anyway. I don't believe you're lying, so…at least if I gotta die, I can die knowing that my girls'll be all right."

Despite his grave words, he had been smiling throughout. His love for his family truly shone through, enough so that even Marcus could see it.

Such strong feelings for one's family… It was something that Marcus never truly felt, as he had no wife nor kids of his own. But it was clear that Davids' love for his family allowed him to put their safety far above his concern for himself.

Even in his time of dying, he was more worried about how they'd be able to survive without him. It was quite…touching.

Was there something about having a family that caused someone to become a better person? It almost appeared to give them a high sense of altruism, or at least that seemed to be the outcome in Davids' case.

Then again… Ashford was always a very kind and selfless person, and he too, was close to his family. Marcus hadn't spoken to him as much in later life, but those behaviors didn't seem to change from the few times he did see him. In fact, it was possible that he had become even nicer after he had his son. Maternal instincts might have been the key here…

In a strange series of circumstances, Marcus began to genuinely envision how his life might have been altered if he had children. Would even he have been a better person as a result? He wasn't so sure if he even held any parental instincts, truthfully. But it was conceivable that only the act of actually having children could awaken those, so maybe…

Well, there was no use wasting time worrying about it, he supposed. He was fifty-nine years old, so the time for children had obviously passed him by. Nonetheless, he did gain a more positive outlook on the idea. Maybe it wasn't the utter waste of time that he had deemed it to be back then…

Marcus returned to his seat at the desk, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper along with a pen. "Alright, what am I writing here?" He questioned the man behind him, who then began to explain the precise words he wanted to express.

…

On this day, another life had been prepared to meet its end. It was truly a shame, as it was one that had much left to live for. A man who would unfairly leave behind his wife and daughter, never even to see the latter as she grows up and pursues her own dreams…

Yet, this was only another consequence of Marcus' ambition. Even if he needed to ruin the lives of both his subjects and those that were guilty by association, in the end…it didn't matter, for it would bring him one step closer to this madness' finale.

He was already beginning to see the fruits of his research…

…Both the ripe, and the rotten.